Seven days of travel have reached their natural conclusion. My traveling companions and I are quite sick. We all have a vile sore throat-and-fever combination. It’s probably a French childhood disease that we would have been immune to had we grown up there. Hopefully, it’s not The French Disease (or The English Disease, depending on who you ask).
I’m off to gargle saltwater and possibly faint. Hope everyone is well. I’m glad to be home, but Paris was difficult to leave.
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2 jobs (one main, one side)
3 hubcaps remaining on my urban assault vehicle
4 weeks to hire a java programmer before Rob leaves for parentville
5 months of backpay to go with my promotion
6 days until we cook Thanksgiving spanokopeta with tzadziki
7 issues of The Ultimate X-Men by Brian K. Vaughan left to read
8 thank yous to write this weekend (thank you!)
9 fingers I’m not holding up to the haters out there.
10 minutes until I fall asleep on this keyboard
The dead have risen, and my formerly disconnected home computer lives again due to the life-giving properties of the *Third* network card installed in a year. I strung up the dead ones and hung them on the bathroom wall. Hopefully they will scare off the bad networking demons.
I adopted a dog this weekend from a wretched pound outside of Toledo. She’s white, Golden Retrieverish, gentle, and quite full of fur. I keep following her around the house making little contented sighing noises.